


Something To Consider

by Uglysweater



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, xoxo i hate declan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uglysweater/pseuds/Uglysweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan has strong memories tied to the kitchen at the barns. He wants to make more memories with Adam. Big, gay, gross memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something To Consider

**Author's Note:**

> low key dedicated to susan/ronanpunch because one time she reblogged a cute non-trc art thingy based on Ghosting by Mother Mother and it made me have a feeling so then I looked up the song and subsequently I spiraled into Mother Mother oblivion. <3 thanks snubaru Title is from Problems by Mother Mother, which, despite this fic, is very ronangansey to my soul okay byeeee

Ronan is leaning up against Ganey’s bedframe as his best friend studiously glues two pieces of cardboard together. Gansey’s got his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration and his glasses are sliding down his nose. Ronan takes a moment to ponder the state of his existence, what course of action brought him here. Being best friends with a fucking nerd wasn't the game plan when he was younger. Developing an all encompassing incredibly awkward crush on his other friend was also not the game plan so whatever. Life sucks, move on. 

Gansey carefully squeezes glue onto the bottom edge of the micro-post office. He gently sets it down amongst the other scaled down buildings of Henrietta. Without lifting his gaze Gansey asks, "Can you keep an eye on the time? I have to hold this in place for a minute while the glue sets." 

Ronan closes his eyes, "yeah, sure" 

"Okay but could you really do it?" 

"I'm counting." 

"Can you please look at your watch though? Your head isn't the most reliable time keeper and I don't want this toppling over." 

Ronan opens his eyes again, sits up a little, and fixes his gaze on Gansey. Gansey holds the state for a moment. Then, he lets out a sigh and leans over to look at his own watch without jostling any of the buildings in front of him. 

Ronan lets himself slump back against the bed frame again. His head lulls over to look at the ambiguous kitchen area. With the fridge in the bathroom and no stove in sight all the 'kitchen' has is a counter with a microwave. Gansey couldn't have used the microwave clock to time a minute. After the frequent power outage they got tired of fixing the clock and let it blink 12:00 for the past few weeks. Noah pointed out last week that its right twice a day and Ronan figures it still makes food hot so it's still doing its job. 

The kitchen at the barns was huge. Sprawling and bright with big windows over the sink. While the Lynch's were wealthy enough to have meals catered every day, Aurora was always the one to cook. Thinking back on it, Ronan isn't sure where she learned to cook. Niall certainly didn't have the skill. If it works in the dream it works out of the dream, Ronan supposes. Although Ronan inherited the greywaren abilities from his father he first learned how to create something from his mother. How to take an idea, a color, a scent, and turn it into a meal. How to measure, how to cut, how to fold. Cooking special things for birthdays and holidays. Making treats on lonely days. 

He doesn't miss it. 

Except when he does.

Ronan heard his phone buzz from where it's laying on the table. He doesn't bother getting up to check it. Everyone he could possibly want to talk to right now is either right in front of him, being a ghost in the other room, or without a phone. 

Ronan's phone buzzes twice more in the next minute. The third buzz is followed immediately by a buzz from Gansey's phone, who reaches for it. 

"Don't bother, it's Declan" He tells him. Gansey pulls his hand back to the work in front of him.

Ronan can imagine what dinners at the Gansey estate were like. He's seen it first hand. Maids to do the shopping and a private chef on weekends. Even if Ronan had not been subject to the properness of it all he could have guess how little the Gansey's cooked by his friend's inability to make even oatmeal in the microwave. 

He wonders what dinner was like at the Parrish house. Ronan knows Adam's mother stayed at home like his own, but he guesses the nervousness waiting to see if his father would be home for dinner was very very different from the anxiety Adam felt. 

Ronan stands and moves over to the ambiguous kitchen area. He opens the cupboards and starts pulling a few pans out. It's a moot point anyway, it's not like they have a functioning stove. Noah's bedroom door creaks open and a cool breeze drifts by. 

"What are you doing?" Noah asks? Peering around the door frame. 

Ronan shakes his head for a moment and turns to grin at him, "I'm going to see if I bang these pots together hard enough if I can knock down the cardboard clock tower over.”

"Sweet" Noah says and wanders over. He grabs a saucepan. 

"Oh Jesus. Please don't do that." Gansey hangs his head. 

"Thanks for your consideration old man, but it's band practice time." Ronan smirks at Gansey. 

"Yeah, Dad." Noah adds, "You just don't understand our music." 

Gansey sighs and shifts out of the way of any sonic attracts on his mini-Henrietta. "Fine, but no throwing." 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It's not even a plan yet. It Ronan lets it form into a plan he'll realize it's a fucking stupid plan, set up for failure. So, for now, it remains firmly in errant and random thoughts territory. 

That doesn't stop him from letting the thought drift in the following Sunday. 

"Hey Matthew," he asks, leaning around and completely ignoring Declan to reach his younger brother at the end of the pew.

Matthew, who is currently trying to sneak eat a bag of potato chips before the service starts, mumbles "Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you remember Mom's pesto recipe?" 

"Why do you want to know?" Declan turns to face Ronan and Ronan's jaw clenches. 

"Oh I don't know, fun family trivia. Fuck off. Do you know it Matt?" 

Matthew, however, has his mouth full so Declan continues to answer for him. "It's basil pesto. There's basil in it" 

"No shit thank you Declan." Ronan's fists tighten. "Matthew what's the crunchy stuff in it?" 

"Pine nuts!" Matthew says, wiping his hands on the front of his pants. "Toasted pine nuts I think." 

"Thanks, man." Ronan leans back against the smooth wood behind him and wills his thoughts to the back of his head once again. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Adam does not have a kitchen either. He's got one hot plate and a mini-fridge. No stove. Not even a microwave. 

The hot plate does not look particularly safe. It's plugged into an extension cord plugged into a power strip plugged into the wall behind Adam's bed. Maybe he can do something about it. Ronan figures dreaming up a full, restaurant grade, stove would probably be excessive. But maybe a hot plate that doesn't need to be plugged in? 

"Hey," Ronan says, nudging his foot against Adam's leg. When Adam looks up from his notebook Ronan nods toward the hot plate in question. "Is that thing safe." 

"Fuck you Lynch." Adam says, returning to his homework. 

"No, seriously. Is that thing going to burn the building down when you inevitably learn to fall asleep standing up." 

"No I will not burn down your church, Ronan" which is so far beyond the point but Ronan lets it slide, "So again, I say. Fuck you, Lynch." 

Ronan just watches him for a moment longer, hoping he'll say something else. He can see the muscles of Adam’s jaw work in concentration. Adam’s rolling his pencil deftly between his fingers and yeah, Ronan might be able to yank things out of his head but this is when he feels truly insane. Adam flicks his gaze up to Ronan quickly but Ronan doesn’t move his focus away between the time Adam looks up and looks down again. Another moment passes before knocks his leg into Ronan’s foot. “Open one book and start reading or I’m reporting you to Gansey.” 

Ronan smirks.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next part of the not plan requires a bit of, well, planning. Namely, how is he going to talk to Blue into helping him without Gansey finding out. The biggest challenge being he cannot convince himself to go to 300 fox way without Gansey. There isn’t any reason for him to visit the psychics' home that won’t seem suspicious. So he needs to wait until Gansey decides to go and tag along. 

This part of the plan proves difficult as Gansey’s current course of action in regards to Blue Sargent is to receive calls from her in the middle of the night and then avoid standing too close to her the following day. 

Luck shines on Ronan a week later when Gansey announces he’s going over to 300 fox way to try to learn more from Artemus. Gansey looks a little shocked when Ronan tells him he’s tagging along, but thankfully doesn’t say anything. 

So while Gansey questions Artemus in the living room Ronan seeks out the smallest member of their group. He finds her storming out of the phone room, slamming the door on her cousin behind her. She jumps slightly when she sees him standing there, but that might have been from the sound of the bang. 

"Hi?" She asks. 

"I need your kitchen Saturday night" 

Blue half turns around, as if there's someone standing behind her Ronan might be addressing. "Um." She says, turning back to him "Did you want to maybe ask instead of telling me?" 

"Not really." He says and Blue glares and folds her arms in front of her chest. Ronan wishes she was still a little intimidated by him. 

"Okay. What do you need my kitchen for?" 

"I need to use it." Ronan looks down the hall, finding an oddly shaped lamp to focus on instead of Blue. 

"I heard your demands the first time. What do you need to use it for?" 

Ronan can't tell her. That would be admitting to having a plan. So far his only tactic in whatever the hell he's been doing is 'hide something for Adam to find and hope he doesn't bring it up or get mad'. Blue pins him with a stare. A surprising feat for someone who barely reaches his shoulders with shoes on. 

"I," Ronan takes a slow, measured breath. "I want to make dinner for Parrish." 

Blue doesn't say anything. Ronan glances down at her to make sure she's not trying to hold in a laugh. Finally, she blinks. " You want to make dinner. For Adam." 

"No."

"No?"

"Yes, maggot. I want to make dinner for him." 

Blue grins. Ronan weighs the odds of Gansey kicking him out if he tries to fight his secret girlfriend. But his heart is not really in it. He just wants her to stop smirking at him like that and say something. Ronan folds his arms, matching her stance. 

"Okay." She says, not bothering to stop smirking. She looks at Ronan like she's waiting for him to say something but he doesn't so she continues. "Friday night is better though. Orla's never here on Fridays after 8:30 and I think mom and Mr Gray are going out. I can convince Calla to go get burritos with me. They'll be a few other miscellaneous cousins around but they should give you any trouble. I'm assuming you'll want the privacy?" She lifts one eyebrow so high and so judgemental Ronan wants to shave it off while she's sleeping. 

"Yeah. Fine." Ronan turns to go find Gansey. Blue stops him halfway through the winding hall and hooks her elbow inside Ronan’s. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks.” He tells her. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Parrish, wait a second." Ronan says on Thursday. Adam has already packed up his backpack and is rushing out the door. 

"What, Ronan? I've got to get to the factory by 4 or they're going to start docking my pay." 

"Yeah, well." Ronan does his best to fix his disinterested face on right. "Blue told me to tell you that you need to be at her house tomorrow at 9." 

"Blue told you?" Ronan simply nods as answer. "Since when do you to talk. Wait why are you talking about me?" 

"I don't know man. She just told me to tell you to be there at 9." It's not specifically a lie. Blue did say the house had the best chance of being empty around 9pm and that they'd have a few hours of quiet. 

"Is this a training thing? Why didn't she just tell me herself? Is she mad at me again? Am I in trouble?" Shit, Ronan thinks, he looks tired. Maybe this is a bad idea. 

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it's not important or anything. Fuck it." 

"No. I mean, if I'm supposed to be there I'll go. If they want me to go." 

"Fuck, Parrish," Ronan says, pushing past him out the door. "Go if you want. Don't just do it. Whatever. Come hungry if you do go." 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

No fucking store within a ten mile radius of Henrietta had a fucking pasta maker in stock Thursday night so Ronan Lynch wakes up Friday morning with a pasta maker in his bed. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Twelve hours later Ronan's dark tank is covered in flour and he's got a lump of dough that has rested the requisite amount of time piled in front of him. He's at Blue's early because every time he tried to get the job done at Monmouth he ended up with raven footprints indented in his linguini. 

He rolls out the dough and rolls it through the machine. Thin, flat noodles start pouring out the other side. Ronan purchased probably an excess of basil but better to have more than enough than be screwed over half way through the night. As the noodles rest Ronan toasts the nuts Matthew recommended. He burns the first handful. He absolutely incinerates the second handful and that's when he starts to sweat. The third handful turns out fine and he throws it it the food processor with the basil and oil. He throws the pasta in water for a few minutes. Everything is done but he still feels like kind of an idiot. Ronan considers calling Gansey to go pick up Adam from St. Agnes and take him somewhere else. Literally anywhere that isn't over here. Then the doorbell rings. 

Fuck. Maybe his Ronan doesn't answer Adam will just leave. The doorbell rings again. Ronan hears the door open. One of the miscellaneous cousins Blue mentioned must have answered. He scrambles to the door in time to hear Adam say, "What do you mean they aren't here? I'm supposed to meet with them tonight." 

Ronan swoops in and grabs Adam's elbow, pulling him inside. He shouts back a "Thanks, stay out," at the woman who answered the door as he shoves Adam towards the kitchen. 

"Ronan what the hell?" Adam whispers. 

"What the fuck are you whispering for? Keep moving."

"Sorry," Adam says, still whispering, "I figured whatever you're doing here must be secret and malicious because why the hell else would you be at Blue's house while Blue isn't even here!" 

Ronan skids to a stop in front of the kitchen and waits for Adam to say something. 

Adam just stares. He looks like he's waiting for the fucking pasta to attack him. 

"Jimi said Blue wouldn't be back for a few hours." He says finally. 

"Who the fuck?" 

"Uh. The woman who answered the door. Orla's mom." 

"Yeah, right. She's not here."

Ronan hangs back as Adam swallows audibly and steps into the kitchen. "So, is Gansey coming?" 

"No. I mean. Not unless I call him right now and tell him to come over.". Adam turns back to him for a moment. Ronan can't tell what he's thinking. He wants to step back and away from the scene in front of him but there's the hallway wall right at his back and he feels cornered. "Do you want me to call Gansey?" 

Adam coughs, "No. It's. Uh, it's fine." 

The both just stand there for a minute, carefully avoiding eye contact. 

"Shit." Ronan says before they head into minute two of silence. "So here's some pasta. There's plates over there somewhere." 

Without waiting for Adam to find the plates Ronan grabs one and fills up his plate. He bumps into Adam's shoulder as makes his way around the table in the middle of the kitchen. Adam tracks him around the room until he's seated. Then he grabs his own plate and scoops up some pasta. 

When Adam joins Ronan at the table he stares intently down at the plate. Ronan watches him flip his fork over four times while Ronan contemplates the logistics of drowning himself in pesto. Adam finally lifts his fork up. He twirls it in his fingers, still looking down. 

"Can you not watch me eat, please?" He finally says. 

Ronan doesn't say 'I want to make sure you like it'. He doesn't say 'I worked really hard in this trying to impress you with one of the few non destructive skills I have.' He just says "Whatever." And picks up his own fork. 

Ronan does not look at Adam take the first bite. He doesn't take a bite of his own either. Honestly, he feels like he might be ill if he tries. Ronan Lynch can conquer a bottle of whisky in a night of he's feeling dedicated but he's going to lose it from this fucking plate of pasta and his own nerves. 

Ronan does what he does best and goes back to watching Adam. He doesn't look like he hates it. "I sort of winged it with how much basil to put in the sauce," He says, like a normal person, "so sorry if it's offending your delicate palate"

"It's good." Adam shrugs. And then looks up. "Wait. You made this?" 

Ronan doesn't really want to answer. He feels like telling Adam 'yes, I made this for you myself' is too intense. So he just matches Adam's shrug with his own. 

"And?" Adam asks but doesn't clarify. He swivels in this chair and his eyes land on the lump of dough not yet formed into noodles. "You made this? This is all made from scratch. By you?" 

Ronan swallows, "Yeah, I mean I didn't like fucking grow the wheat or anything but I-" Buy he suddenly finds himself kissing Adam Parrish's soft lips. Shit. He fucked up. If he's honest, yes, this was the long term goal of the evening. Kissing has been the long term goal in regard to Adam for a long time. But not before Ronan asked permission. Ronan can't believe what a fucking loser he must look like right now. Ronan panics. He pulls back quickly. Maybe he can act like it was an accident. He looks down. He. He. He didn't move. Ronan's still in his own seat. He looks up. Adam is half-lunged across the table, still holding onto Ronan's shirt with one hand. His other hand is planted firming in Ronan's dinner, holding Adam's balance as he apparently lunges across the table. 

"You have pesto all over your hand." He observes. 

Adam doesn't say anything. He's looking at Ronan like he thinks one of them just lost their mind but he's not sure who. Ronan can relate to the expression. 

"Did you just kiss me?" He asks Adam. 

"I think so." 

Ronan has no idea how to respond to that. 'Thanks'? 'Cool'? 'Please do it again'? Maybe if just shuts the fuck up Adam will do something so Ronan doesn't have to. 

"Is that. Okay?" 

"Thanks. Cool. Shit." Ronan tells him. In the least helpful way possible. 

Adam's still half lunged over the small kitchen table. His left hand fully immersed in pesto linguini. He lets go of Ronan's shirt with his other hand and starts to lean back. And while Ronan isn't sure what he actually wants to happen but he's nearly positive Adam moving away is not it at all. He surges up to wrap his hands around Adam's shoulders and seals their mouths together again. 

Adam gets knocked back on his ass as Ronan scrambles onto the table with him. The legs creak, but hold them. Ronan's knee is firmly planted in his own bowl of pasta. 

"What the hell? What the hell? Ronan" Adam says the last word as a gasp. 

"I'm just a bro trying to make his friend a nice dinner. I didn't expect you to be such a floozy about it." He mumbles breathless into the skin of Adam's neck. 

"Oh my god shut up." Adam slides his basil covered hand up inside Ronan's shirt. Ronan moans. Forks are knocked to the floor. 

The legs of the table creak again as Adam pushes forward, laying Ronan on his back. The plate previously under Ronan's knee joins the forks on the floor with a crash. Adam looks startled for a moment before Ronan says "Keep going, fuck I'll get her a new tableware set just keep going." 

"Tableware? Who are you?" Adam asks before his dives back in. He grinds himself up against Ronan, and he's hard. That surprises Ronan. Ronan himself is usually at least half alert if Adam is looking at him but it's a little overwhelming that Adam might have the same reaction towards him. It's fucking wild. 

The kitchen is a mess. There are noodles on Ronan's head and Adam's hand is still covered in pesto as he runs it up Ronan's chest. They don't register the front door opening and closing but a moment later they hear the cough from the entryway of the kitchen. 

They both still. When they look up, Maura Sargent and The Gray Man are standing by the door. Maura has a single eyebrow raised high. 

"Hi ma'am" Adam says, breaking the silence "How was y'all's night?" 

"Oh you know what it was a fine night, Adam. How was yours?" Neither Ronan not Adam answer right away. Maura suggests, "Please get off the table it's time to get off the table now." 

Adam slides off and Ronan tries not to wince at the friction. Maura throws open the cabinet under the sink and pulls out paper towels and a spray bottle. "You two can clean this up. Spotless next time I walk by." 

With that Maura Sargent skinks off, pulling The Grey Man with her. Ronan turns to look at Adam as soon as she's out of view. Adam's face is bright red and he's staring at the floor. Ronan feels himself leaning towards acting indignant and above all forms of cleaning but that would leave more work for Adam, so he sets to work scooping up the floor pasta and tossing it in the trash. 

Eventually Adam's cheeks start to return to a normal shade of Adam as he brings the plates to sink. 

Once the obvious mess is off the floor and table Ronan begins spraying every surface with the cleaner Blue's mother provided. He uses one foot standing on a pile of paper towels to clean the floor rather than get down and use his hands in the hopes he looks more cool and casual. Plus the farther Ronan keeps his face from Adam's crotch the less likely it is that he'll do something stupid. 

The next time the front door slams Adam is done with the dishes but Ronan is still scrubbing furiously at a particularly slippery spot on the table. He hears Blue's voice, along with one Ronan recognizes as Calla, coming from the hall. Ronan kind of wants to hide in the corner of the kitchen. He's not scared of Calla, he just doesn't want to give her anything that she might think is an advantage over him. Thankfully, her voice disappears up the stairs and Blue makes her way down the hall. 

"So? How was your evening?" Blue asks. Leaning against the doorframe, one hand hiked on her hip. 

When they don't answer Blue lifts one questioning eyebrow. Ronan wonders if Blue Sargent is the type of person to get angry when it's pointed out that they look exactly like their mother. 

"Yeah it was a nice dinner." Adam says. He throws a glance over to Ronan before continuing, "Gansey apologizes he couldn't make over here tonight. He's sorry he missed you." 

Ronan gives himself permission to let out one sharp laugh at Adam's lie. A lie made better because all three parties standing in the kitchen know it's a lie. 

Blue glares at Ronan before telling Adan "I'm sure he did, thank you Adam. You guys about done here?"

"Yeah, just about done. We'll get out of your hair now." Adam hangs up his damp dish towel and slips out of the kitchen towards the front door. Ronan tosses the rest of the used paper towels into the trash and follows Adam out. Blue winks at him as he passes.

Adam is nearly by the Hondayota by the time Ronan catches up with him. He keeps his distance a few steps back. "Hey." He shouts after Adam. 

Adam pauses but doesn't turn, and Ronan doesn't move closer. So much of Adam is like trying to approach a wild animal. If you step on a twig, or like fucking surprise make out with him, he'll skitter away. So Ronan holds his ground halfway across the front lawn from Adam. 

"Not right now, Ronan. I don't want to talk about it." 

Ronan's not surprised, and his has plenty of experience controlling the level of disappointment he shows. "Fine, whatever." 

Adam turns to face him. His whole body squared off. ' _This is what they mean by fight or flight response_ ' Ronan thinks. 

"Fuck, I'm sorry if I-"  
"I just meant I didn't-" 

Adam huffs out a breath. Then he laughs. He laughs sudden, loud, and honest. Ronan would join in, because he enjoys laughing with Adam, just like he likes riding in a car with Adam, and doing reckless things with Adam, and looking at Adam, but he doesn't feel like laughing now. 

"I just meant," Adam starts again, "I don't want to talk about it right now. Not when I can see Blue looking out the upstairs window." 

Ronan twists around. And sure enough he sees Blue Sargent quickly duck behind a curtain. From his quick spot it looked like she was holding the house phone to her ears. 

"So I wanted to ask. If instead of the front lawn of house of psychics, if you wanted to maybe. I guess, do you wanna come over?" 

Ronan's heart twists from deep in his chest. He grins. This feels dangerous. "Fine. Whatever, Parrish." 

He bumps shoulders with Adam as he passes. Adam pushes back. Adam always pushes back. Ronan gets in his car and hears the Hondayota's engine start from behind him. Ronan peels off down the street towards St. Agnes.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i dont know how to seamlessly end stuff sorry sorry. your welcome for editing down the number of times someone refers to gansey as 'dad' though. so. you know. Happy monday


End file.
